Eden 6:2

“Why did you tell Eden that Alice was your niece?” Eleanor asked Wil while they watched couples of every description whirl around the dance floor.

“‘My former lover’s daughter’ failed to trip off my tongue in the moment, I fear,” Wil returned crisply. She tapped the ash from her cigarette into an urn holding a palm and added, “what would you have said?”

“You have a point, but you do realize I brought Eden here to recover from a heart break—not to have her heart broken again.” Eleanor frowned at her friend.

“Ah, but sometimes, a new one is just the thing, don’t you find?” Wil grinned and raised her cigarette to her lips. “It certainly worked for me after the girl’s mother married that ancient banker. I found myself the bored little wife of an MP and bounced right back to my old self.

“Yes, I see that you are your old self,” Eleanor said without smiling. “Does Alice’s mother know she’s here? Somehow I doubt the banker would approve of the company.”

“Of course she knows. There she is—” Wil nodded at the dance floor and Eleanor saw that indeed, Alice Vine’s newly remarried mother was waltzing with another guest in men’s evening clothes, though in the dim light Eleanor could not say if it was a man or a woman.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow at Wil.

“Her husband’s in Italy,” Wil said simply, and tossed what remained of her cigarette into the urn beside her.